Something to consider

I found this picture on Facebook and it spoke to me.

Loneliness

Loneliness is five dishes waiting for you in the sink:

The first with remnants of ice cream

Which you ate till you felt nauseous -

At least you felt something

The second a plate with remnants of

A microwave dinner:

which singed your taste buds with the taste of stale cheese

And soggy macaroni

At least you were not the only thing that tasted ugly.

You and the revolting macaroni and cheese could share a bond;

You were both difficult to hold close and savour

Both of you were unwanted, unappreciated

Nobody wanted to hold you close to the lips.

The last three dishes in the sink were clean but you put them there anyway

So that the ice cream bowl and microwave dinner plate could have company

You didn’t want the dishes to experience what you were experiencing

You refused to let them become lonely.

Childhood

Everything begins in childhood, it is the most crucial stage in a person's life. Some of the most important lessons are learned in childhood. And for some, like me, childhood is a period of strengthening. Here is a recollection of parts of my childhood. Parts that have created vivid stains on my memory.

Childhood

I’ve got these vivid recollections of my childhood that stain my memory.

Glass shattering, doors slamming constant repetitions of ‘bitch’, 'fuck you',‘I hate you’.

 And me, with a pillow wrapped around my head

Soaked all the way through

 Trying desperately to muffle the thuds and screams

 That penetrate the walls that are meant to keep them out.

And December, goodness I hate December.

 A month that carries on its shoulders the delicacies of Christmas and New Years

 and never have I hated anything as much as I hate those days.

 They start out the same way:

 food cooking on the stove,

 glasses of alcohol

 and then at around 8pm…

 the demons begin to manifest themselves,

gripping and strangling to death whatever piece of happiness there was during the day.

Then it begins all over again, shouts, screams, doors banging and constant repetitions

 of ‘bitch', 'fuck you''I hate you'

Colouring in black stodgy pen,

the “season to be jolly’

So I’ve tried to escape it,

Every chance that I could

Spending it with friends

Drinking myself into a coma

So as to numb my brain,

get it to try and forget,

restrict it from wondering

if perhaps at that exact moment,

In a place I call home

Two people I love,

are constantly repeating the lyrics to the background song of my childhood;

‘bitch’, ‘fuck you’, I hate you

With a door slamming in the background.

Busi

Chronicles

I looked up the word chronicles the other day. All I wanted really was a clear definition of the word. Being a second language English speaker, I do this often. What I wasn't expecting though, was the title to a blog that I have been putting off for months. See i started blogging almost two years ago and discontinued the blog i had for two reasons, 1. I couldn't find time and 2. Some of the writing on my blog made me blush. I have however been wanting to set up a new blog because I enjoyed blogging and sharing my experiences with my friends, family and even people whose names I will never know.

So that is how this blog, Chronicles, was born. When I looked up the word chronicle I found that it meant a description of events in the order that they happened, an account or recollection of some sort. Of course this is perfect because I want to share my experiences. As for the long blog address? Well I don't know either maybe we can figure it out together.

So here is to a brand new start, a new blog, a new home for my thought and new experiences.


Peace and love
Busi

#Chronicles #ThemakingsOfAWoman